


It Just Didn't Add Up

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:24:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I didn't know it yet, nor did I make the connection at the time, but everything started when Liam moved in next door.<br/>Or<br/>Louis didn't know there was something special about the baby that showed up on his door step when Liam, the thought-to-be creepy neighbor, predicted it to arrive. He didn't expect the child to grow rapidly, but thank god Liam was there to help him when he thought he would pull out his hair. Harry was a new breed, the breed of power generators, and Liam knew. And he also knew that Louis would fall for Harry, it would just take time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Just Didn't Add Up

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I suck at summarys and I am so very sorry about that, but please stick through with this fic. It's a new idea and I can't explain it as well as I wish I could, so reading it would help in the explanations. Thank you all!

I didn’t know it yet, nor did I make the connection, but everything really did start once Liam moved in next door.

* * *

 

“Someone moved in next door.” Eleanor proclaimed, shutting the door behind her with a soft click as she shook off her shoes.

“So that’s what woke me up this morning.” I nodded with understanding, slamming my thumb down onto the button, rolling out of the way just as the bullet blazed past my head. I quickly recoiled and turned to shoot the guy, getting a head shot with a successful noise emitted from my mouth.

“He started moving in at ten Lou, you should have been up by then.” She said with hidden annoyance and moved to the one seater next to me, plopping down with a sigh from the cushion. “His name’s Liam. Seems like a really nice bloke, someone you would get along with great.”

“Thats what you say about everyone who moves in here.” I mutter a slur of swears as someone kills me. A knifing, I took a wrong turn and right into him. “And then in some way, you’re proven wrong by some great being.” I ended up being the final kill, not much of a surprise, and I quickly exited out of the game and went to the Black Ops home screen, turning to talk to her and tossing the controller to the empty seat next to me.

“Okay, that one sod was a drug dealer, I’m sorry about that, my fault,” She glared at me but continued, “But Liam seems like the real deal, a real charmer as well. Big puppy dog eyes, dressed nicely, even popped on over to my place and introduced himself. He brought me a pie!” All her bad-emotions that were directed towards me were erased as she mentioned the stereotypical home-welcoming desert.

“Ooooh!” I say with fake glee. “Seems like someone’s trying to get into your knickers.”

“Yeah right, he’s way too puppy-ish for me anyways.” She shrugged and started to pick at a stain on his shirt. “And the weirdest thing about him was he randomly brought up babysitting. Just started talking about it, and when it started getting weird he just said he had to go.” Another aimless shrug as she tried to scrape away the dried on whatever-it-was.

“Are you expecting?” My eyes grow in amazement as she quickly erases the idea from my head with her head snapping up and her hands in a frantic, denying motion.

“Oh hell no! We both know i'm way too young, way too immature, and WAY too single to even think about having a kid.” I let out a relieved laugh and she couples me. “It was just weird and all, he brought up babysitting kids out of the blue. I don’t even look like I want kids, I mean, I’m only twenty six and my flat isn’t really boasting ‘I want to get preggers’.”

“Yeah, the amount of booze you consume is enough birth control for a small country.” She gapes at me as I smoothly move out of the path of the pillow she threw, shuffling into the kitchen.

“You are a dick, you know that, right?” She follows me into the small space, her arms crossed firmly against her chest.

“It’s something you always remind me of.” I fill up the kettle, placing it on the stove.

“Good, because someone with your arrogance can’t afford to forget.”

“Thanks, El.” I rolled my eyes, “Now would you care for some Louis-is-a-dick tea or am I too arrogant for thinking that you couldn’t make it yourself?”

She laughed, “No, I think some Louis-is-a-dick-tea is in order.”

* * *

 

It took a week before this strange, babysitting Liam bloke showed up at Louis door.

 

The doorbell’s shrill sound rang through the small flat and I groaned, of course it had to ring right now. I had just gotten out of the shower, my hair was still sending small lines of water droplets down my bare back. In a rush, I quickly pulled on a pair of sweats and ruffled my hair with a towel before going to answer the door. The thought of my naked chest flashed through my mind as I pulled open the door.

“Hello!” I cringed at the happy and loud voice, too happy for late thursday night. “I’m Liam Payne, I just moved in next door.” At the name, the ends clicked together and my eyes went up and down the boy's very perfect body.

He was very well built, muscles peaking out of the light blue t-shirt in a provocative way that was a little bit to ‘I want something from you’. He wore blue jeans, a blue jean’s jacket wrapped around his waist like a model straight from the magazine. He did have the puppy-dog eyes Eleanor credited him with, a deep and chocolatey color that reminded me of a labradors. He had cropped hair, buzzed a while back and was now starting to grow out, and it was styled in a miniscule quiff. His smile though, thats what made me question his perfection the most. It was sweet yet very, very attractive in a kind of ‘let me fuck you’ kind of way that was pushed even further with the stubble he sported.

He cleared his throat, “I brought you some cookies, I didn’t think you liked pie. They’re chocolate chip.” His smile grew again and I squinted my eyes even more in question, looking down at the platter that was placed perfectly between his hands.

“I’m Louis.” I realized I was being completely douchy and opened the door even more. “Please…please come in.”

“Thank you.” His large smile grew even more as he stepped in. He shook off his shoes and beelined for the kitchen, setting down the platter on the small island in the middle of the tiled room.

“Sorry about my indecency, I just got out of the shower.” I closed the door, taking a sweatshirt off the hook that was behind it and pulled it over my head in a rushed attempt to make myself look non-sexual.

“Not a problem, I knew I came at a bad time,” He was seated at one of the bar stools and watched me put the kettle on the burner. “This is just the first time in a week I’ve had some free time, between settling in and finding a job and all. And I already met your friend Eleanor, now I just had to meet you.” I nodded along, pulling out two mugs and two bags of Yorkshire.

“How did you know she was my friend?” I asked simply, reaching for a cookie and biting into it. His stunned expression was diluted by the sweet taste of the cookie. It tasted heavenly, better than any cookie I had ever tasted, and that included my own mums.

“Oh, she...uh...she mentioned you!” He recovered quickly with a dazzling smile. “Said you were a real hoot, gave some good recommendations about you.”

“Now did she.” I scoffed, knowing everything she said was in her best attempts to get me either a new friend, I only had three now, or a long term relationship, I was more of a one-night-stand kind of guy anyway. “These cookies are amazing. What’s your recipe?”

His cheeks turned crimson, “Its just a recipe from back home, thats all.” He shrugged it off and reached for a cookie of his own.

“Where are you from then?” The kettle started to whistle and I pulled it off, pouring it into the two waiting mugs. “I hope Yorkshire is okay, its the only tea work drinking here anyways.”

“I like Yorkshire, its no problem.” I nodded again, setting the hot mug in front of him and grabbing the jar of sugar down from the cupboard, placing that and a spoon in front of him. “And I’m from...uh…Holmes Chapel.” His hesitation seemed a little out of place, seeing as it was about where he was from, which no one really needed reminding of.

“Oh, I’ve heard of that place. It’s in Cheshire, right?” He was adding sugar and stopped, a cube dropping in as he looked up at me with eyes swirling with alarm and question

“You know about Holmes Chapel?” He recovered yet again and added another cube before stirring them in with a quiet thank you thrown my way.

“Yeah, my little sister Lottie did a school presentation on the small towns of England and happened to pick Holmes.” I added sugar to my tea and went to the fridge for the milk. “She tried to get my mum to move there after her project, and this was when she was real small, and she kept asking until my mum flat out told her ‘no Lottie, we’re staying in Doncaster’. She was absolutely crushed, it was hilarious.” I let out a reminiscing laugh and added a dab of milk to my tea before passing the jug over to Liam.

“Who would have thought.” He laughed, adding a small amount to his mug before passing it back to me to put away.

“So, what brings you to London? Small city just too small?” I barked out a couple of laughs and he followed with his own sounds of music.

“You could say that.” He shrugged and took a sip of his tea. “It was more that I had a bigger purpose, a purpose that I could only fulfill in a city like London.”

“And have you found out that purpose yet?” I sipped at my own mug in reciprocated motions as I watched him ponder my question.

“Not yet, I feel like its coming...soon.” His pause was followed by another strange smile that I mimicked with a little gnawing question in the back of my head; what's wrong with him?

“How soon is soon?” I meant it as a joke, and I laughed afterwards to further my point, but he ended up answering.

“In about two weeks, if i'm being quite honest.”

* * *

 

“Thats what he said ‘in about two weeks’, like what the fucks is that supposed to mean?” I slur, taking another shaky sip of my n-th beer.

“I don’t even know man. Maybe he’s from the future. A fucking robot.” Zayn laughed maniacally at the thought, putting the fag to his lips and taking another sucking breath. We were both intoxicated, Zayn on his weed and I on cheap beer, with careless bottles strewn around us in his crap flat just a block away from me.

After my creepy conversation with Liam a few days prior, I had made sure to make a date with Zayn. Beer and weed, Sunday night, what more could I want? It was now very, very early morning on Monday and I was already in the clouds on alcohol.

“If he’s from the future, that explains his fucking magic cookies.” I giggle at Zayns dazed and loopy grin, my grin probably nowhere near as orderly as my brain perceived it as being.

“Did he like...like put weed in it?” His head rolled with the question, drawing the spliff to his mouth one last time before rubbing it out into the ashtray on the table next to him. “I’ve heard of weed brownies...but like never weed cookies. Man thats a cool idea, I gotta write that down!” He scrambled for a notepad, tripping over a few bottles and landing on the floor. We both erupted into laughter at Zayns pathetic fall.

“Dude,” I calmed my laughter, “I’ve had weed in things before and those cookies didn’t taste anything like that. They were so fucking good. I could kill for those cookies man, Jesus!” Zayn stood up, gripping his side as he maneuvered over the bottles with elongated steps that were very much unneeded, before cascading down onto his ratty couch.

“Then what shit did he put into the cookies?” Zayn shifted, digging in his pocket for another fag.

“I don't even know man, but he said it was a recipe from his home. Holmes Chapel, a small town in Cheshire.” Zayn nodded his head, holding the spliff in his lips and lighting it with a cupped hand.

“Woah,” He placed the lighter on the table and took a deep inhale from the hand-rolled cigarette that was placed between his two fingers, “Don’t ever trust those small towns. Some have like cults or shit. Maybe he puts something extra special into the batch.” He laughed even harder, tapping the ashed fag on the dish to get off the ashes.

“You’re right man, maybe I just ate something illegal. Like a kid or something!” I gasp and stand quickly, my head spinning from all the drinks. “I gotta go turn the cookies into the police!”

“Loueh, babe, you are such a good citizen, god. People must love you.” Zayn looked up at me with his bloodshot Bambi eyes that gave my drunk person a new found confidence.

“I gotta go make sure no more babies die for Liams cookies!” I teeter around, my hands grabbing for my coat and my phone. “I'll call you tomorrow once I’ve saved all the little kids.” I lumber over all the beer bottles surrounding my seat, the number greater than I could have counted without help from my fingers.

“You do that babe. I love you!” I waved a drunken hand as I closed the door behind me, my mission fuzzy yet determined in my mind.

I survived the walk down his hallway, my feet barely connecting with the stairs before I was lifting them off again to keep moving. I slowly slipped on my coat, stuffing the phone into my pocket as I pushed open the doors that connected Zayns flat building to the real world. The air was sharp, nippy even for September, and I tried sloppily to do the buttons of my coat but gave up after I couldn't make my fingers maneuver the first button.

A check at my watch told me it was twelve thirty, and my mind was racing with the thought of turning in my neighbor that I started to tilt on the sidewalk. The other late-night walkers gave me looks of concern, but luckily no one offered to help my stumbling, drunk case. I say luckily because I would no doubt blab about Zayn and my conversation, leading to god knows what.

I made the already short walk to my flat building in what I felt was a record breaking time, bursting through the doors with slurs of regret as my hands pulsed with pain from hitting the hard metal. I ignored the surging aches as I climbed the stairs, my legs shaky and wobbling as I climbed higher. I passed floor one, floor two, then I finally reached my floor, floor three, and pushed open the door that connected the stairwell to my flat-floor.

“To Liams.” I say with confidence and to myself. I point my finger in mock battle mode, rushing down the hallway to his door.

I paused only momentarily before my fist collided with the door in angry beating that was meant as my drunk knocking. I heard shuffling behind the door, giving me time to gather the few thoughts I could and fix my clothing before the door was swung open and Liam was pulling me in, an unexpected turn of events.

“Hey,” I slurred, now realizing how drunk I really was, “I have a problem with you.” My words were very, very drunk, and Liam stifled a laugh next to me.

“I know you do Louis, trust me, I do.” He let out a small laugh as he guided me to his couch. “You sit here while I get you a glass of non-alcoholic water.”

“Don’t-” I tried to protest, make him stay so I could talk to him with my drunken speech, but he was already booking it to his kitchen. I groaned, collapsing onto the couch. The room was spinning, yet it wasn’t, but then it was again. Fucking alcohol.

“Here you go.” Liam was back again, a plastic cup being shoved into my face. What middle aged person had plastic cups and not glass? Come on! “Drink up and take these, just some aspirin to help with the oncoming hangover.” He thrusted two white pills into my hand as he moved to sit on the loveseat that I hadn't noticed, right next to the couch I was laying on.

I took them, the small part of sense I still had reminding me that the pills would be for the best. I sat up, glaring down at the blue plastic cup in my hand before plopping the pills into my mouth and taking a large swig of water.

“So, tell me what your problem is.” His smile was trying to tell me something, like maybe he already knew. But no, he couldn’t, that’s impossible.

“You make… you make really fucking good co-” I let out a large belch of carbonation from the beer, “cookies. You probably use kids blood in them or something.” This time I finish my sentence before I burped.

He let out a light laugh, “So I WAS right! Good old power,” He shook his head and I looked at him with confusion, “Nevermind what I just said. You’re obviously drunk, how about we get you home and in bed, yeah?”

“I don't,” I pause because of the momentary dizziness, “have my key. I left it at Zaynies.”

“I was anticipating that to happen.” He shrugged, standing and taking the cup from me to bring it into the kitchen. “I guess you’ll be sleeping on my couch then, hope thats not too big of a fiasco.” His voice was raised as he talked to me from the kitchen, my question forgotten by now.

I felt like my head was going to roll off my shoulders, “I’ll be fine here.” I hiccuped, a childish laugh escaping my lips as another hiccup was pressed from me.

“Thats what I thought.” He was back now, only his hands were filled with pillows and blankets. “Jump up Lou, I gotta make the bed, er, couch.”

I paused, standing up looking at him with another look of question. “How did you know my nickname?”

“Hmm?” He dropped the pile of beddings and started putting sheets onto the light grey couch.

“How did you,” hiccup, “know my nickname? Lou is, “ another hiccup, “my nickname.”

“Oh, uh, Eleanor called you it.” He rebounded quickly, his hands flustering with the sheets and I thought I saw his cheeks reddening.

“Alright-amos.” I plopped down onto the loveseat and watched him work. Every so often he would look at me, and I would look right back at him with a very vacant stare that he would quickly break. It wasn’t until he finished that either of us spoke.

“Here you go Louis, home sweet couch.” A sheepish smile was displayed on his face as he motioned to the made couch.

“Thank you Li-am!” I moved swiftly, and wrapping him in a hug and giving his cheek a very sloppy and wet kiss. His body froze in my embrace, tensing under my kiss, before he pushed me away and ran a hand through his hair.

“There you go Lou.” He moved even further away from me. “My room is just down the hallway, if you need to, uh, if you need anything. First door on your right is the loo.” He nodded, more to himself than to me, before shuffling down the carpeted hallway and quietly clicking his door closed.

I found it rude that he hadn’t turned off the lights, so I went around flicking off all the switches. My mind was way too foggy to soak in any details, and when I returned to the couch, I happily accepted the warm duvet as I fell onto the cushions. If I said I was out before my head hit the pillow, it wouldn’t be a lie.

* * *

 

I woke up with my heat pulsating and my mouth tasting like something had crawled in and died there. Being in a new place didn’t help my discomfort, as I fell off the couch because I didn’t make the connection that it wasn’t my bed and I really didn't have enough room to roll over on the small couch.

I landed with an ‘oomph’ and I groaned at the pain. What a wonderful way to start a Monday. After I had gathered together myself, I pushed myself up so I was sitting on the carpeted floor and soaked in my surroundings.

I was in his living room, which was obvious, and I realized that he had a very modern taste. The color palette ranged from black to a very light brown, almost like a coffee with some half and half. But the one thing it lacked was personality. Everything around me was very modern and well designed, but there was nothing involving Liams personality. No knick-knacks, personalized blankets, hell, he didn’t even have lamps on his coffee tables. I swirled around, looking for something that at least told me SOMETHING about Liam, and the only thing I could find was a framed picture that hung on the wall above a desk that was smushed into a corner.

I moved closer to get a better look at the picture. It was Liam, a younger Liam about the age of 18, standing next to a guy who looked to be twenty five. They were both wearing big, boasting smiles that even filled me with a little happiness. Liam was sporting very Justin Bieber like hair, a caramel brown, and his face lacked the stubble it now had. He was much shorter as well, only coming up to the guys neck where he was now towering slightly over me. The guy next to him wasn’t as attractive if I was being completely honest. He had blue eyes, dark hair, a pairing that was usually dazzling, but on him it just wasn’t that way. Either way, they both looked very happy together, almost like a couple. Which was kinda creepy, seeing as the taller bloke looked much older than younger Liam.

But other than that picture, the flat seemed to be like a hotel room, all non personalized.

Just as I thought that I was okay, the night prior flooded my head and I groaned yet again, except now it wasn’t from pain. Liam was being Mr. Mysterious, and even my intoxicated mind knew something was up.

“Liam? You home?” I said with a raised voice, moving from where I stood, inspecting the picture, to the middle of the room. “My head really hurts, could I maybe have some more asprin?” I patted my coat pockets, I had slept in it surprisingly, and knew that I still didn’t have my key and my phone was still there.

After a good minute of silence, I deemed that he had gone to work and I was left in his flat alone. Now I could explore.

I had already looked around the living room, and my mouth did feel like a dead animal was in there for the night, so I decided it be best to go and snoop in the kitchen. The kitchen was just like the living room, non personalized and modern. New appliances lined the marble counter space and the sink was completely empty, the dishwasher empty upon my further exploration. He was a very neat guy, that was for sure.

Another freaky thing about Liam was his choice in china. Instead of glass things, plates and cups that most normal twenty-something year olds had, he had plastic. I had opened all the cabinets and only found one cabinet that didn’t have plastic china in it. Weird, I thought to myself.

I even opened all the drawers, and again, only one drawer had normal, metal silverware. Every other drawer had either miscellaneous things, soup ladles or spatules, or childs silverware. Like dora forks, or blues clues spoons.

He didn’t even have a child, I thought in bewilderment, so why would he have childs shit for himself? Did he have a fetish or something?

Nothing about him added up. It just didn’t add up.

  
  


 


End file.
